Harry Potter, Slytherin
by RocketTortoise
Summary: So if Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin rather than Gryffindor, what would be different? Will Harry still become a hero without the support of Ron and Hermione? How will Harry and Draco influence one another? Will they become friends or enemies? Who lives and who dies as the new timeline warps Harry's inevitable battle with You-Know-Who?
1. Slytherin, At Last

**Harry Potter, Slytherin**

 **By RocketTortoise**

 **Chapter One**

 **Slytherin, At Last**

* * *

On the stroke of midnight ending the night of Halloween, after the trick-or-treaters had returned to their homes and their parents had tucked them to bed, a shadow fell upon Godric's Hollow and Lily and James Potter were killed. In the early morning, well before the sun began to creep over the hills, the half-giant Rubeus Hagrid delivered the Boy Who Lived upon the doorstep of his aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

It would be there that the child would spend the next ten years of his childhood, unaware of his lineage and his place in the world of magic. But rather than taking the child in and raising him as their own, they spurned him and treated him like swine, abandoning the child inside the cupboard under the stairs, a tiny space unfit for a child to grow.

It took the Dursleys eight years to fix the light inside that cupboard. Every night, after being fed the leftovers of whatever the Dursleys had had for dinner, the boy would be locked inside, alone and in the dark until morning came, and light would slip in through the slits on the cupboard door.

The boy eventually learned to fall asleep as soon as the lock was fastened outside. The night held nothing for the small boy except for the skin-crawling sensation of spiders creeping upon him and the occasional mouse racing past his feet. In his dreams, he could escape the confines of the cupboard. He could float on a cloud, laughing as the memory of 4 Privet Drive would fall away into the distance. The return of the morning was inevitable but the few moments of respite that the embrace of sleep brought helped the boy make it through those trying years. Somewhere, deep in the depths of the boy's soul, he knew that something would come to his rescue. And on the day of his eleventh birthday, it did. Four words, spoken from the mouth of the half-giant, Hagrid. Four words that heralded the chance of a life outside of the cupboard.

"You're a wizard, Harry."

* * *

There was a foul smell in the air throughout King's Cross Station. It smelled of soot and the sweaty stench of people. Harry had been into the city a few times with the Dursleys but he could never get used to the smell. The Dursley's home in Surrey didn't smell particularly fresh either. Harry's cousin Dudley's horrific body odour would easily overwhelm Aunt Petunia's cheap pine-flavoured air fresheners whenever he entered a room and Harry's cupboard wasn't exactly a model of pristine hygiene, but the smell of the city was different in some way. It seemed to linger and seep into everything; into the walls, into the clouds, even into the people. The Muggles, as Hagrid called the non-magical people, seemed so monotonous, just shuffling up and down the platforms and filing into trains to be whisked away over the horizon.

Hagrid, on the other hand, seemed, in many ways, larger than life. His large frame towered over the crowds of people, parsing them around Harry like a living snow plough. His booming voice seemed to reverberate inside of Harry's ears and his magnificently tangled beard seemed to house all number of oddities. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt awake, properly awake. Rather than just trying to get through the day, Harry was completely entranced with this magical world Hagrid had brought him into. The giant had taken him to Diagon Alley, a long road of shops where Harry had acquired all the items he would require for his new school, Hogwarts, a school that apparently taught its students magic. Harry could hardly believe it at first but as Hagrid showed him more and more of this new world, Harry could feel the excitement build to a feverish point.

All the witches and wizards seemed to pop out of reality like Hagrid. They seemed to glow like a rainbow on a rainy day, even the sketchy-looking ones who would creep up to Harry before being shooed away by Hagrid. Harry just couldn't get enough, like a child in a candy store. He just wanted to see this Hogwarts and leave Privet Drive far behind him.

And so Harry and Hagrid arrived at King's Cross Station. Harry had all his school supplies loaded onto a trolley, of which, incredibly, included a cage housing a snow-white owl named Hedwig. As Harry pushed the trolley, the owl just sat dead-still on its perch, peering deep into Harry's eyes as if it were staring into his soul. Harry spun the cage around so that the owl would be staring away from Harry.

They were crossing a bridge between platforms when Hagrid stopped all of a sudden and pulled out a pocket watch from his jacket. "Blimey, is that the time?" He turned to Harry. "Sorry Harry, I going to have to leave you. Dumbledore will be wanting his…" he tapped the breast pocket of his jacket a few times as he trailed off, "well, he'll be wanting to see me."

He rustled around in his pocket and pulled out a train ticket, "Yer train will be leaving in ten minutes, here's yer ticket. Now stick to yer ticket, it is very important to stick to yer ticket."

Harry took the ticket from Hagrid's hand and looked down at it. It said, in large gold font, Platform 9 ¾. "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? But Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says platform nine and three quarters, but there's no such thing, is there?" He looked back up, but Hagrid was gone, vanished in a way that you would think would be impossible for a ten-foot behemoth. But he was indeed gone, leaving Harry with a train to catch on a platform that shouldn't exist. Harry started breathing quick, sharp breaths. He was alone again. The sign at the end of the bridge said Platform 9, so Harry rushed towards it.

As he stepped onto the platform, Harry was surrounded with people, all heading off in different directions, completely ignoring the young boy alone on the platform. In the corner of his eye, he saw a station security guard. He was talking to a woman holding a baby, pointing her in some direction. Harry hesitated, glancing up at the platform signs, on one side, Platform 9, and on the other side, Platform 10. Harry gritted his teeth and pushed his trolley up to the guard.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where I might find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?" Harry asked.

The guard stared at him with a confused look, "Platform Nine and Three Quarters?" His look turned to one of annoyance, "Think you're being funny, do yah? Get lost, brat."

The guard turned and walked away muttering grumpily to himself. Harry was taken aback. He turned to the clock, "Five minutes," he muttered. He looked around frantically but didn't see any sign of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

But then amid the bustle of the station, he heard a voice carry through the crowds, "Every year, packed with Muggles. Platform Nine and Three Quarters, this way!"

Harry spun around and saw a red-headed woman striding purposefully with her daughter, a gaggle of red-headed sons following behind her. Glancing up once more at the clock, Harry pushed his trolley forward to follow them. It wasn't hard to keep track of them, their red hair seemed to stand out in the crowd like a swarm of flashlights. The group stopped before a brick column and the woman turned to her kids. "Alright Percy, you first."

A tall, scrawny boy with a sunken looking face left the group of red-headed boys and spun his trolley to face the column. He pushed forward and to Harry's disbelief, the boy ran straight through the bricks, disappearing inside. Harry's eyes widened and he could almost feel his jaw drop.

The woman looked back to one of the boys and called out, "Fred, you next."

Another of the red-headed boys who looked exactly like 'Fred', cried out, "He's not Fred, I am!"

Not-Fred clicked his tongue and said, "Honestly woman, and you call yourself our mother."

"Oh sorry, George," the woman sighed and beckoned towards the column.

Not-Fred, or rather, George, pulled up alongside his mother before saying, "I'm only joking, I am Fred," before racing forward into the column, his twin following after him.

The woman looked to her final son to beckon him towards the column, but her daughter glanced in Harry's direction. Without thinking, Harry ducked behind his trolley. The last boy raced through the column, and the woman and her daughter moved to follow. The young girl glanced at Harry once more before stepping into the column with her mother.

Harry glanced up at the clock. Two minutes. "Uh oh…" he gasped. He pulled in front of the pillar, gulped, then plunged into the column, squeezing his eyes shut in the process. It felt like there was a strong wind pushing him from behind, driving him through the darkness until he hit the light on the other side. He opened his eyes and before him, on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was a great red train, _The Hogwarts Express_ written in gold along the side. Steam was flowing from the chimney as the driver blew the whistle, signalling that the train was soon to depart. Harry rushed forward towards the train staff who were loading the last of the luggage on board the train. He was barely on the train when it started to move forward and out of the station.

The train itself was crowded with students but fortunately, most of them were pressed up against the carriage windows, waving final goodbyes to family members on the platform, allowing Harry to pass through.

He glanced out the windows at the faces of the parents seeing their children off. Some had proud smiles on their faces, others were struggling to hold back tears. A pang of jealousy knifed through Harry. Hagrid could have at least stayed to see him off. They weren't family, but... it would have been nice to see one of those faces out there smiling at him.

As the station disappeared into the distance, the students slipped back into their seats. Harry quickly realised that there were absolutely no seats that were left unoccupied. He pushed forward into the next carriage but rather than being filled with rows of seats and booths, this carriage contained a number of rather large compartments.

He peeked through the glass sliding door into the first compartment. Inside was a boy Harry's age sitting by himself. In his hands was a silver pocket watch which the boy had opened. The boy himself was staring out the window, watching the city flash by. He was dressed in a small but pristine suit that was probably worth more than everything that Harry owned, and his hair was a sharp, platinum blond that was sleeked back in a way that seemed to defy gravity.

Harry lightly tapped on the glass and the boy's head snapped towards Harry, instinctively closing the watch and shoving it into his jacket pocket. "Yeah?" he asked.

Harry slowly pushed the door open and leaned inside, "Sorry, but I was wondering if I could join you in here. The train is pretty crowded."

The boy frowned before turning back to the window outside. "Yeah whatever."

Harry hesitated a moment before stepping inside, sliding the door shut behind him. He sat down in the seat opposite the other boy but he didn't even acknowledge Harry's presence. The two boys sat in an awkward silence for quite some time, Harry watching people pass through the hallway while the other boy stared out the window.

Eventually, it became too much for Harry and in a low murmur, he said, "My name's Harry. What's yours?"

The boy turned back to Harry but didn't say anything. After looking Harry up and down, he sighed and replied, "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Harry shot him a half-smile and said, "Nice to meet you, Draco."

Draco turned back to the window, "Yeah, whatever you say."

Desperately trying to keep the conversation alive, Harry spat out the first thing he thought of, "That was a really interesting pocket watch, the one you were holding before. Where did you get it?"

Draco head shot back to Harry and he glared at him, "That's none of your busin—" His eyes narrowed slightly as a thought ran through his mind. "You said your name was Harry, right?"

Harry nodded. Draco leaned forward in his seat, "What's your last name?"

Harry hesitated. "Potter."

Draco's face suddenly grew a smile that seemed like it was somewhere between a grin and a smirk. "Well why didn't you lead with that? I had no idea I was in the company of a celebrity."

Harry shrunk back a little into his seat. "Celebrity," he muttered.

Back when he was shopping in Diagon Alley with Hagrid, he couldn't help but notice the intense stares and rushed whispers from various witches and wizards whenever Hagrid would introduce Harry to someone. Hagrid had explained to Harry why he was so famous, about the night his parents were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and how when his parents' murderer tried to kill Harry, something went wrong and the monster was banished, leaving a lightning bolt-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.

But there was something about Draco's reaction that was different from all the reactions he had seen over the past couple of days. Draco's look didn't seem starstruck, but seemed to almost look down on Harry, as if it were Draco who was the celebrity and Harry the fan.

"I had heard some whispers around Diagon Alley when I was there yesterday," Draco stated. "Who would of guessed that the rumours were actually true?" Suddenly the boy who would barely even look at Harry couldn't stop talking. "Hey, is it true that you have the scar?"

"Oh... uh... yeah." Harry reached up and pushed his fringe to the side, revealing the scar in all its glory.

Draco leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms out on the top of the upright cushion. "Ha! Wicked."

He glanced at the glass door into the hallway, "I would introduce you to my friends Crabbe and Goyle, but they left a while ago to find the lolly cart." He turned back to Harry and his face lit up in a smirk, "I can't wait until we get to Hogwarts and you get called out in front of the school. The reactions are going to be priceless."

* * *

By the time the train rolled into the Hogwarts station, Harry and Draco had changed into their school robes so when the train finally slowed to a stop, they were one of the first to get off the train. Night had fallen so the train platform was illuminated by lines of lanterns that encircled the station.

Impossible to miss at the end of the platform, even in the dark of night, was Hagrid, who was waving his arm well above the crowd of students. "First years, over here! Boats are this way!" he called, his voice echoing down the platform.

As he approached the half-giant, Harry called out, "Hagrid!"

Hagrid looked down and spotted Harry, "Oh hello, Harry! Making friends already?"

Harry glanced back at Draco, who was eyeing Hagrid up and down with an odd look on his face. "Oh yeah, this is Draco. Draco, this is Hagrid, he… uh… is a friend of mine."

Draco glanced at Hagrid once more before turning to Harry, "You're friends with this… man? He would be useful when moving through a crowd, I suppose." Draco moved past Hagrid and disappeared into the crowd.

"Charming fellow, ain't he?" Hagrid muttered. He turned back to Harry and nodded towards the wharf where the boats were waiting, "We better get a move on, Harry. Wouldn't want to miss the feast, now would we?"

As Harry stepped onto the wharf, he looked out across the black lake. In the water was a fleet of dinghies that each contained a single lit lantern. As Harry sat down in his boat, he realised that none of the boats had any oars, but he could clearly see the first of the student's boats, led by Hagrid, drifting off into the water.

"The boats are enchanted." Harry spun around as a girl hopped into the boat. With the light from the boat's lantern, he could see her brown, bushy hair that seemed to almost cover her entire face. "As soon as we cast off, the boats will simply take us to where we need to go."

"Oh… uh, thanks. How did you know that?" Harry asked.

The girl shrugged, "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History, one of the textbooks that we were assigned." She reached out with her hand for Harry to shake, "I'm Hermione."

Harry reached out and shook her hand, "Harry."

A couple of more students joined the two in the boat and they cast off, the boat pushing itself along as Hermione said. Harry squinted out towards the front of the group of boats to try and find Hagrid's boat but the fog hanging over the water was too thick. He couldn't even see where they were going. All Harry could do was hope the boat knew where it was going.

Just as Harry was wondering how much water they would have to cross, their boat broke through the edge of the fog and shining before them was Hogwarts. Sitting atop a rugged cliff edge, the castle towered over them, the orange lights from inside sparkling like stars in the night sky, the moon peeking out from behind the castle and bathing it in moonlight. From behind Harry, he could hear Hermione whisper, "It's even more beautiful than the pictures in the book."

When all the boats had reached the other side, Hagrid had them all form together in a big group. "Alright, all of yers are going to head up those steps into the castle," he pointed up at a long set of stairs that climbed up the hill and into the castle. "Once yer inside, you will find Professor McGonagall who will take you to the feast."

As the huge group climbed the stairs, Harry could hear Draco moan, "First thing we do at Hogwarts is exercise, really?"

The inside of the castle, however, was almost worth the climb. The great stone archways and the old-looking windows gave the interior a feeling of grandeur that almost gave Harry shivers as he climbed the steps. And waiting at the top, with a large witch hat on top of her head was, Harry presumed, Professor McGonagall. Her mature features and her dignified pose gave her the aura of a queen, standing atop her castle as they, the lowly peasants, made the climb to absorb her wisdom.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses." The first year students started to buzz at the mention of houses. Harry, of course, didn't know the first thing about houses. "They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are here, your houses will be like your family." Harry perked up at the word, _family_. Professor McGonagall turned towards the large doors behind her and pulled out her wand from within her robe. A quick flick and the doors swung open, allowing Professor McGonagall to lead the students into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was divided up into five tables, four presumably for the four houses and one table at the front of the room that served the teachers. All eyes in the room were trained on the first years as they were led between the two middle tables to the front of the room, just before the faculty table. As Harry looked up, he saw dozens of candles floating above their heads and somehow, he was able to see through the ceiling and see the night sky. "It's not real, the ceiling," Hermione said, "it's bewitched to look like the night sky."

Before them, a dusty, old hat sat on a wooden stool, the pointed top wilted like a dead flower. Harry spotted Hagrid sitting at the faculty table, his bulky frame seeming even more out of place next to the diminutive teacher to his left. Hagrid quickly noticed Harry and smiled back at him.

"Now, before we begin," Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

From the centre of the faculty table, an elderly man with a long white beard rose to his feet. "I have a few notices which I would like to announce," he turned his gaze to the first-years up front, "first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Draco, who was standing right beside Harry, whispered in his ear, "That was cheerful."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a long scroll from somewhere up her large sleeve and unrolled it, "When I call your name, you will come forth. I will put the Sorting Hat on your head," she nodded to the old hat on the stool, "and you will be sorted into your houses."

Harry stared at the hat in astonishment. _That old hat?_

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and called, "Hermione Granger."

To Harry's left, he saw Hermione step forward. As she stepped up to the stool, Harry could hear her muttering to herself, "Okay, relax. Relax." Harry glanced at Draco who glanced back at him with a bemused look on his face.

Hermione sat down on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Hermione's head. Before their eyes, the folds in the hat became eyes and a mouth and it started speaking, "Ah right then… Hm…" Under the hat, Hermione seemed tense and nervous, her shoulders stiff and her fists clutching the stool with an iron grip. After a few moments of deliberation, the Sorting Hat came to a decision. "Okay… Gryffindor!"

One of the tables behind Harry exploded in cheers as Hermione hopped off the stool and practically skipped to join her new housemates, a huge grin on her face. The raucous celebration took Harry by surprise and he couldn't help smiling a little inside. Draco chuckled, "Of course she goes to _that_ house. They deserve a nutter like that. Trust me, Harry. You do not want to go there."

Before Harry could respond, Professor McGonagall moved on to the next name, "Draco Malfoy."

Draco stepped up to the podium and sat down on the stool. McGonagall sat the hat on top of Draco's head and the Sorting Hat immediately cried, "Slytherin!" The table to the far right of the room started cheering as Draco hopped off the stool and headed over, shooting a smirk over at Harry as he went past.

"Ronald Weasley."

The youngest red-headed boy from the King's Cross Station platform emerged from the crowd. He had a weird look on his face like he was being called up to the principal's office. The look on his face didn't change even as the Hat was being placed on his head. "Hmm… another Weasley, huh? Perhaps I should place you in Hufflepuff? It would be a nice change in pace. No? I know just where to put you, then… Gryffindor!" As the cheers rang through the hall, the boy's face finally softened, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. As he sat down at the Gryffindor table, one of his brothers slaps him on the back and says something in his ear, causing the others to laugh.

"Harry Potter."

Just like that. Silence.

As Harry stepped up onto the podium, he could hear the whispers behind him. He glanced back towards the other students. All eyes were on him. He could see some eyes darting from him to his forehead, trying to get a glimpse of the scar under his thick fringe. One first year in the front row was just standing there with his jaw agape as if he were in one of the Saturday morning cartoons that Dudley would watch. Harry looked at Draco who was desperately trying not to laugh and barely succeeding. A small smile gripped the edge of Harry's lips. It was kind of funny.

"Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall called, snapping Harry back to reality. Take a seat, please.

Harry sat down onto the wooden stool as Professor McGonagall placed the Hat onto Harry's head, "Hmm… difficult… very difficult…" the Hat murmured. "Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. You would be a good fit in any of the houses." The Hat paused for a long moment and the other students stared to get restless, wondering what was causing the long deliberation. "You could do well in any of the houses but there is one house where I could see you becoming _great_. I sense something driving you, boy. Something deep, something dark, but if properly nurtured, the things you could do…"

Harry looked out at the Gryffindor table. One of the red-headed twins muttered something and the others laughed. Harry remembered the red-headed daughter at the train platform and the warmth in her eyes when she looked at Harry, the same warmth he felt when he first met Hagrid.

"Hmm… yes," the Sorting Hat mused. "I believe that this is the right choice. Hm… I look forward to seeing the things that you accomplish…" The Hat raised its voice so that it would echo throughout the hall.

" _Slytherin!_ "

* * *

 **A/N: Forgive me if this chapter is pretty rough, I've been out of the game for a while and still need to shake the rust off. Any feedback you guys can provide would be deeply appreciated, I feed off compliments and learn from constructive criticism. I have plenty of ideas for this series so hopefully it can become a long term thing.**


	2. Muffins Are The Root Of All Our Problems

**Harry Potter, Slytherin**

 **By RocketTortoise**

 **Chapter Two**

 **Muffins Are The Root Of All Our Problems  
**

* * *

You could almost hear a pin drop inside of the Great Hall as the Hogwarts student body waited for the Sorting Hat to decide which house the famous Harry Potter would spend his student life in.

Draco peered around the room. So much fuss over one boy; one boy who didn't even know he was a wizard, like, five minutes ago. When Potter had told him on the train that he had been raised by Muggles most of his life. Draco couldn't help but shudder. Draco would have had to shower for an entire week if he had to spend a day in a house with Muggles. It was funny watching the other students silently hoping to land a boy who didn't know the first thing about the wizarding world.

That being said, the Sorting Hat _was_ taking its sweet time to sort Potter into a house. Playing up the crowd, much? Draco peered behind the Hat to the elderly man sitting on his ivory throne. If Harry Potter was famous, Albus Dumbledore was legendary. You couldn't even make one trip through Diagon Alley without hearing the tales of how Dumbledore vanquished some made-up monster in some made-up land or how he defeated the great Grindel-whatever in the duel of the millennium. Watching Dumbledore eye over Potter with that self-satisfied look on his face, Draco couldn't help but think how brilliant it would be if Potter got Sorted int—

" _Slytherin!_ " the Sorting Hat cried.

First there was a gasp, a sharp crack that seemed to suck in all the air in the room. Then, the cheers. The entire Slytherin table roared in celebration, older boys leaping up on top of the table to jeer at the other houses as they tried to process what had just happened. Oh, this was it: the reaction to end all reactions. The mix of shock and confusion, combined with a drop of despair, Draco just couldn't get enough. He looked at Dumbledore. Draco growled. He had to admit, the old man had a good poker face. Before, he was leaning forward in his seat, waiting in anticipation for the Hat's decision, but now he was leaned back in his chair, his hands entwined together on his lap. There was no sign of frustration on his face, no furrowed brow, no bitten lip. Nothing. Draco gritted his teeth. How boring.

Another burst of cheers erupted as Potter climbed off his stool and walked over to the Slytherin table. He had a bit of a concerned look on his face, probably bothered by the attention. Draco shuffled across in his seat. "Sit here, Potter." If Potter was going to be in his house from now on, Draco might as well make the best of it. Potter waddled over and sat himself next to Draco, other students at the table reaching across to slap him on the back. "Should have known you would be a Slytherin," Draco said. "I guess us meeting on the train was fate." A small smile formed on Potter's face as he nodded. Draco laughed. Oh, this is going to be a hoot.

* * *

The uproar of the feast in the Great Hall became a startling contrast to the silence of the dungeons. Shortly before the end of the feast, the house prefects gathered their respective first years and escorted them to the house common rooms. While the other houses disappeared up sets of moving stairs (to Harry's astonishment), the Slytherin first years were escorted down a set of steps into the Entrance Hall. The mammoth wooden doors had been left open, letting the chilly night air blow into the hall and envelope the students.

As the first years shivered, one of the Slytherin prefects, a girl with slick, red hair, grumbled to herself, "You've got to be joking… where the hell is Filch? I'm freezing my ass off here…" She was chewing a stick of bubble gum and as she blew it into a bubble, Harry noticed its sparkling colours, a mixture of red, orange and blue, blazing like the heart of a raging fire. As the chill rattled Harry's bones, he felt himself being drawn deeper into the flames. Just thinking about sitting around a warm, toasty fire made Harry feel weak in the knees, like he was about to crumble then fall straight through the stone floor and into whatever waited below.

"Snap out of it, Potter!" Harry felt a firm hand grab him by the shoulder and shake him awake. Harry snapped around and saw that it was Draco who had spoken. He felt like he had been sleeping for days. His head felt groggy like the fog from outside had swept in and seeped into his brain.

"Wait… what?" Harry asked, his voice slurred as if his tongue had been stung by a bee and was swollen.

"Don't stare into the gum," Draco warned. "It's designed to mesmerize you and put you into a trance. Just focus on me."

Harry nodded slowly. He stared into Draco's shiny blue eyes which stared back with a sharp vigour. As he forced his eyes to stop drifting and focus on one spot, he felt the fog lift and his mind clear. He glanced back at the prefect, whose bubble gum popped, revealing a smirk on her face. "Welcome to Hogwarts, kiddo. Consider that as a little rookie hazing." She laughed and turned to face a wooden door that seemed rather modest in comparison to the main entrance. The prefect pulled on the handle then pushed the door inward, revealing a spiral staircase that descended below the floor. As the door opened, a line of torches on the wall lit up. "Be careful not to get left behind!" she called. "You do not want to be lost on your own in the dungeons."

Together, they all filed down the staircase. The deeper down they went, the mystique and childish wonder of the Great Hall upstairs dissolved into a bone-numbing chill, as if the wind from outside had followed them into the dungeons. If the rest of the castle resembled medieval architecture, the dungeons resembled a field trip into the Dark Ages. The group passed by a number of solitary cells, each somehow more depressing than the last. While Harry was expecting all kinds of torture devices, each cell was empty, except for a single wooden stool that sat in the centre of the space. All of the cells were empty, except for one.

They heard him from a mile away, a dull sobbing the echoed through the silent corridors. Whatever quiet conversations were being had between the first year students were snuffed out in an instant. In one of the cells, they found a man sitting on the wooden stool, his back to the students. He was hunched over with his face in his hands, his sobs somehow not muffled in the slightest with his hands covering his mouth. For the most part, the students stayed well away from the cell but one boy, a rather chubby lad with a weirdly scrunched up face, got a little to close to the bars and in a flash the man sprung from his stool and threw himself against the bars.

"You, child! Do you have any idea what they are going to you down here? You don't, do you? You don't want to know! But I'm going to show you. Do not expect to sleep soundly tonight, you vile piece of filth! You're going to see everything that _they_ are going to do to you. Be sure of that!"

The boy fell back to the floor, his lips trembling as the other students jumped out of his way. The prefect glanced back at them and blew another bubble, the pop seeming to drive the man back to his stool. "Don't mind Scary Terry. That's just what he does, he's our resident ghost. As long as he stays behind those bars, you have nothing to worry about."

Harry turned to Scary Terry then back to the prefect. "But… he's a ghost," Harry pointed out. "Can't he just go _through_ the bars?"

The prefect paused for a moment to think, leaning against the wall. She ruffled Harry's hair and smirked again, "Just don't think about it. It'll help you sleep better at nights."

The prefect banged her fist against the stone wall twice as if she were knocking on a door. "Honey, I'm home!" she called. As if answering her call, the stone wall began to shiver, the bricks making up the wall grinding against one another as they were forced to move, opening up the passage before them. Through the short passage were a grand set of wooden doors, heavy circular handles dangling off the wood. The prefect stepped into the passage, the rest of the students following after her. "'Honey, I'm home' is the password to open up the way to the common room. Don't forget it unless you fancy keeping Scary Terry company."

The prefect stopped before the wooden doors, spinning to face them with a look that suggested she had just remembered something. "Oh yeah, I was supposed to say this in the Great Hall." She stuck her hand in her robe pocket and pulled out a crumpled-up piece of parchment. She unfurled it and raised it to her face, her eyes squinting to read her own messy handwriting. "Hello there, first year students. My name is Gemma Farley and I will be one of your prefects for this year. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to—blah blah blah…" she shoved the parchment back into her pocket. "A few quick tips to help you all survive here. If one of the older students tells you to do something, just do it. Some of the guys in here, you don't want to get on their bad sides. If anyone from another house tries to punk you, though, feel free to tell them where to shove it." She paused, chuckling to herself. "Stay away from food lying around, chances are it's been laced with something. Don't annoy the giant squid, you'll kill us all. And if you see someone sleeping on the couch, don't wake them up. That's just not cool. Any questions? No? Let's go in then."

Gemma turned back to the door, grabbing the metal handles before pushing the doors open. The students poured inside, gazing around in awe. The Slytherin common room was massive, seeming to stretch out forever, lit by lines of small greenish lamps and the roaring fireplace in the corner of the room, blazing with a brilliant green flame. The wall on the students left featured large windows that were covered up by green curtains emblazoned with the Slytherin logo. In the centre of the room was a grand spiral staircase that spun in both directions, reaching up into toward several more floors and descending down further into the floor.

Gemma skipped down a couple of steps into the common room and lay back on one of the couches that were dotted around the room. She stretched her legs out onto the table in front of her and sighed in relief, "So this is the common room where you can spend some quality time with your fellow Slytherins. Upstairs is the Slytherin personal library, if you ever get the urge to, you know, study." Gemma chuckled as she blew another bubble, this time, the bubble coloured in the Slytherin green. "The student dormitories are downstairs. Girls are on the first floor and boys are on the second floor. If any of you are tired, you can head down now and get some shut-eye, your stuff should already be unpacked for you. However…" Chuckling again, Gemma pulled her feet off the table and sat up, leaning forward towards the first years. "The other seniors and I have planned a welcoming party for you guys, it's a bit of a tradition. And any student that I find sleeping soundly in their beds during the party will get to join me on my morning exercises."

"What morning exercises?" one girl to Harry's left asked.

"Oh, just a little jog and a dip in the Black Lake," Gemma replied. "Anybody know why we call it the Black Lake?"

The first years shook their heads in unison.

"Because it is freezing all year round, no matter the season." The prefect kicked her feet up back onto the table, laughing. "Oh, and because all the school's plumbing feeds into the lake. I guess we should call it the Brown Lake then?"

* * *

The rest of Slytherin house arrived in the common room not much later. Very quickly, the cold, empty space became bustling with activity. Unruly would be the best way to describe the commotion. Harry was quickly swept up by the mob, eager to have a close look at their new famous housemate. Names and faces were flying at Harry from every direction and he had no hope to remember them all. From what he could see between the chaos, the other first years were getting similar treatment, although not with the same fervour as Harry was receiving.

He spotted Draco, who had somehow managed to escape the mob and was sitting alone in the corner of the common room. After a concerted effort of pushing and shoving, Harry was finally able to squeeze himself out of the mob and crept over to join Draco. Just like on the train, he had his pocket watch out, the metal lid open in his hands. As he walked closer, Harry could make out the engraving carved into the metal face. It appeared to be Draco's family crest, a large capital 'M' in the middle of a shield, with two winged serpents crawling up the sides. Draco was so absorbed in the pocket watch that he didn't even notice Harry approach. Harry got a glimpse of the inside of the pocket watch before Draco noticed him. He saw what appeared to be a family photo, a younger Draco sitting in between his two parents, who both sat upright and unsmiling. In that moment, Harry thought he saw the picture moving, the younger Draco turning his head from one parent to the other, a large grin on his face. That was all he saw before Draco snapped the watch shut and turned to face him, a momentary look of panic on his face.

"Geez Potter, you really shouldn't creep up on people like that," Draco gasped, shoving the watch into his robe pocket. "I'm surprised the other students let you out of there without signing autographs."

Harry let out a nervous laugh, "I'm not that famous, am I?"

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," Draco replied. "You're the one who took down the big bad monster, as a baby no less. You're the hero of the wizarding world. Everybody loves you."

Harry turned back to the crowd of students. While most were absorbed into whatever they were doing, Harry could spot a group of eyes that were locked directly with Harry's own. On the edge of the crowd, a group of students were huddled together, staring straight at Harry and Draco. The looks on their faces seemed to be less than untampered adoration.

"Well I suppose that your reputation might have gotten smudged a bit since you got sorted into this house." Draco stated.

Harry turned back to Draco. "How come?" he asked.

"Let's just say Slytherin isn't loved by the rest of this school. To them, you've just gone and joined with the bad guys."

"The bad guys?"

Draco nodded, "Oh yeah, to them, we're the worst of the worst and you're one of us now. But don't worry about that, there's nothing you can do about it." Draco rose and looked down at Harry, "Let's go, I'll introduce you to some of the others."

Harry got up and followed Draco as they delved into the mob of students. After a few moments peering through the crowd, Draco spotted something and strolled off towards it, a grin on his face. Harry followed his gaze and realized that Draco was heading towards a group of girls their age. There were three of them, huddled together amongst the crowd. One of the girls was huge, almost as tall as some of the senior boys. Her face was grimy with sweat and dirt and her fists looked like they could crush Harry's head with one squeeze. While the other two girls were talking, she stood there silently, her eyes surveying the room like a bodyguard.

As Draco waltzed up to the trio, the big girl muttered something to the others and they turned to face him. His grin widened. "What's up, Parkinson? For a moment, I forgot how ugly you were but then you just had to turn around and remind me."

One of the girls, a short, brown haired girl with fierce-looking eyes, smirked and crossed her arms. "Oh, you're here too, Draco? I didn't realise that Hogwarts accepted weasels as students now."

Draco laughed and the two fist-bumped. "Ladies, how is everyone doing? I'd like to introduce to you the famous Harry Potter." He dipped into a mocking bow as he stepped aside for Harry, who felt his ears burn from embarrassment.

The two shorter girls looked at Harry, their eyes running up and down his body as they sized him up. As the girl that Draco called Parkinson, stepped closer to him, he felt her eyes drill into his, as if she were peering straight into his soul. Eventually she smiled, or smirked, and curtsied.

"Pansy Parkinson, pleasure to make your acquaintance," she greeted.

Harry let out another quiet laugh and Draco intervened, "Quit pretending that you're a lady, Parkinson. You probably don't even know what half those words mean."

Pansy snarled at Draco and spat, "Oh shut it, Draco. Weasels can't talk, remember?" she turned back to Harry, a smile magically appearing on her face again and she gestured to the other girl, "This here is Daphne and she," she pointed to the big girl who was still peering around the room, "is Millicent. It seems like the weasel is already trying to latch onto you but if you ever need anything, the girls and I would be happy to oblige."

Before Harry could reply, Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and started pulling him away. "Let's get out of here, Harry. I'll introduce you to Crabbe and Goyle. They'll be around here somewhere."

Draco found the two climbing up the spiral staircase from the student dormitories. They were both quite large for their age, one with very short hair that was shaved almost down to the scalp and the other with slightly longer brown hair that curled slightly. Both were munching on a pair of muffins with looks of pure joy on their faces. Green icing smudged their faces and crumbs were flying everywhere as they practically inhaled the muffins before moving onto the next, reaching into a container that rested in the curly-haired boy's arms.

Draco paused for a moment, causing Harry to almost bump into him. "Crabbe! Goyle!" he called. The two froze as Draco marched up to them, looking like two robbers caught in the act. "Where'd you get those muffins, huh?"

The two looked at each other and the curly-haired boy tried to hide the container behind his back, "What muffins?" he asked, crumbs practically spilling from his lips.

"Good try, Goyle. You almost fooled me there." Draco reached around the boy and ripped the container from his hands. "Where did you find this?"

The two boys mumbled something indecipherable and Draco leaned in. "What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Your trunk…" the other boy, presumably Crabbe, replied.

"Oh really?" Draco said in fake surprise. "And who do you think made them for me?"

"Your mum…" Goyle replied.

"That's right. And do you think she made them for you?"

The two shook their heads in unison. Draco sighed in annoyance. "You two just can't keep your hands to yourselves, can you? One of these days, you'll both—"

"You're being pretty harsh over some muffins." Draco spun around and Gemma snatched the container from Draco's hands. Before he could complain, she pulled out a muffin and took a bite out of it. Her face lit up immediately, "Oh wow. This is freaking amazing. There is no way your mom made this."

Draco snarled, "What did you say?"

Gemma looked down at Draco with apparent confusion, "Huh? I mean, come on, Malfoy. You must realise that your mom probably got some house elf to make this for her. I've tried her cooking before and I must say, it isn't an experience I would like to repeat."

Draco was fuming, his fists shaking as if he were about the jump the prefect right in the middle of the common room. Before he could do anything though, Gemma turned to the rest of the students and exclaimed, "Let's get this party started! Where the hell is Finley with the Butterbeer?"

As if in response, the entrance doors opened and a group of boys marched in triumphantly, several wooden barrels rolling inside after them. The students inside the common room cheered as the lead boy pulled out his wand and with a flick, pulled a group of tables together before levitating the barrels on top. The students cheered again as they rushed to the kegs.

"About time you showed up, Finley!" Gemma cried, stomping towards the lead boy. "My throat was getting dry from waiting so long. What kind of prefect are you?"

Finley looked at her with a look of disdain and nodded towards the kegs, "Hurry up and drink, you drunken old hag."

Gemma wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek playfully, "Ah, love you too, hun."

If the commotion before was comparable to a herd of rhinos stomping through a village, the party after the arrival of the butterbeer was comparable to a nuclear weapon bombardment. Harry had a fairly firm recollection of the beginning of the party. Draco, still furious from his arguments, had decided to go to bed early. Harry tried to warn him about the punishment for leaving but Draco wasn't in the mood to listen. Harry was going to follow him soon after but Gemma intercepted him before he could escape and dragged him back to the party.

"Where are you going? The party's just getting started!" she asked, her speech a little slurred already.

"I don't really like this kind of thing," Harry explained but Gemma just laughed.

"Okay okay, I'll let you go to bed but not before you try one Butterbeer. It's a house tradition, a rite of passage for first years."

Harry's eyes widened, "Wait, what?"

A number of the older students handed him a mug of Butterbeer, the liquid a sparkling shade of gold with the foam froth barely staying inside the cup and the crowd started chanting, "Drink! Drink! Drink!" Harry could feel all the eyes in the room on him, waiting for the famous Harry Potter to take his first sip. Slowly, he lifted the glass to his lips and tipped the Butterbeer into his mouth. In an instant his body started to heat up and his mouth felt like it was on fire. He spat the Butterbeer out, coughing uncontrollably as a high-pitched scream rang from right in front of him. He opened his eyes and realised immediately his mistake. Just before him was Pansy Parkinson, her face and hair soaked from the mouthful of Butterbeer Harry had just spat out. Her eyes were wide and her body was stiff in shock. There was a moment of silence as everyone realised what had just happened, then, all at once, there was a loud united cheer from everyone except Harry, Pansy and her friends.

As Harry stared at Pansy, her eyes slowly crawled up from her feet to Harry. In that moment, a chill ran down Harry's back, something inside him sensing danger like a feral cat in the night. The chants started ringing again, "Drink, drink, drink." Slowly creeping back, allowing himself to get absorbed by the crowd, Harry gulped down the glass of Butterbeer, the crowd's cheers becoming muffled as his vision blacked out.

* * *

The next thing Harry remembered was a loud banging. His eyes shot open and immediately his head burst into pain, like a dozen needles were being plunged into his brain. His hands clawed at his skull as he writhed on the ground waiting for the banging to stop.

"Yo, first years!" Gemma cried. "Up and at 'em. It's time for morning exercises!"

Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Gemma. For some reason he had fallen asleep on the floor and had somehow changed out of his robes into his pyjamas, using his school robes as a blanket instead. By the entrance to the room was Gemma, incessantly banging two metal frying pans together, each bang causing Harry to wince in pain. To his left and right he saw the other first year boys slowly crawling out of their beds, Harry now realising that he had found his way to the boys' dormitory.

To Harry's right, Draco had dragged himself out of his bed covers, grumpily yelling, "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

Gemma paused for a moment and smiled at Draco, "Why, good morning sleepyhead. Get some nice shuteye last night? I told you, those who skip out on the festivities get to join me in the morning. Now all of you get up and get dressed for a swim."

To Harry's left, Goyle could barely get himself out of bed, while Crabbe hadn't even woken up yet. Another boy, occupying the bed closest to Gemma was sitting up straight on his mattress, glaring at Gemma with his cold, sunken eyes. "Why do we have to get up, as well?" Goyle asked, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"What are you complaining about?" Gemma asked, her voice in mock-astonishment. "Exercise is good for you. You should be thanking me, really." She walked up to Crabbe's bed where he was sleeping soundly. She lowered the two frying pans right next to his ears and started banging, even louder than before. Crabbe awoke in a cry and jerked upwards, banging his head into one of Gemma's frying pans. "Rise and shine!" she called, a smirk hanging off her face. "You're going to love this, big guy."

With Gemma hovering over their shoulders, the five boys reluctantly changed into clothes better suited for physical exercise and were quickly herded out of the dungeons and out of the castle. The morning air that greeted them as they stepped outside was cold as ice. The morning sun had barely risen, and the previous night's fog had yet to dissipate, giving Harry's surroundings a monotonous edge that put him on edge just as much as the cold. With the thick fog making visibility difficult, Gemma kept the group close together to stop them from getting separated. She led the way from the front, pulling them to a jogging pace with loud blows into a whistle.

Harry and Draco trudged behind her. Neither were particularly fit so their breathing quickly became restless as they struggled to keep up with the prefect's pace. The fifth member of the boys' dormitory followed close behind them, apparently not struggling with the jog but not trying especially hard to run quickly. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, had completely fallen off the pace, only managing to keep going because of the looming threat of the older student behind them, the second prefect who Gemma had referred to as Finley. Whenever Crabbe and Goyle would slow down from fatigue and get too close to him, he would mutter some unrepeatable threat and the two would quickly pick up the pace, as if they had caught a second wind.

Finally, the Black Lake drew into sight, the dark water unnervingly calm despite the brisk morning wind. With the thick fog hovering over the water, there was no way for Harry to see the other side of the lake. All he could see were the dim shadows of what he assumed was the other side of the lake as the morning sun earnestly tried to pierce the fog wall.

Gemma took the group onto a large wooden wharf that stretched out from the shore across the water. When they had reached the end of the wharf, Gemma finally stopped and allowed the first years to catch their breaths.

"Alright kids! We have finally reached the fun part of our morning exercises: the swim!" she laughed to herself, not seeming to care that none of the first years laughed with her. "For this little exercise, I'm going to have the five of you swim t—wait," she paused abruptly, looking over the first years, quickly counting to herself. "Wasn't there five of you? Where'd the lanky kid go?"

The first years spun around, staring at each other in astonishment. Indeed, the fifth boy had disappeared into thin air. "The brat must have slipped away in the fog." Finley stated.

"Right under your nose?" Gemma asked, sounding more like a critique than a question. "That's pretty impressive, I suppose. Oh well, I still have to four of you to keep me entertained." She turned back to the four remaining first years. "As I was about to say… for your morning exercises, I'm going to have the five—well, four of you swim to the other shore. It's somewhere in that direction." She nodded her head vaguely across the water where the wall of fog awaited them.

"You can't be serious," Draco complained. "This lake is huge and we'll probably all get lost in the fog."

Gemma turned to Draco, her usual smirk replaced with a look of cold indifference. "Oh, I'm very serious, _Malfoy_." The way she said 'Malfoy' was drenched with disdain, as if the very utterance of the name disgusted the prefect. "If you're feeling heroic, you can take their burdens on yourself. Join me on morning exercises for the entire month and they can head back to the dungeons right now. It's up to you."

Draco hesitated. Gemma's glare softened, her smirk returning once again. "Didn't think so." She reached behind her and pulled out a small bag, a little rucksack that was opened and closed with a drawstring. "I know we've gotten off on the wrong foot, Draco, but I brought along a little gift for you, to patch things up between us." She reached into the bag, dipping her arm in all the way to the shoulder. Harry's eyes widened as Gemma reached around inside the impossible large bag. "Where is it? Ah, here it is."

She pulled her arm out of the bag and in her hand was a silver pocket watch, with the Malfoy crest engraved on the lid. Draco's eyes widened, "Wha— how do you have that?"

He lunged for the watch but Gemma tossed the watch over the side of the wharf. Pulling out her wand in a flash, she pointed it at the falling watch and muttered, " _Wingardium Leviosa."_ The watch froze, hovering in mid-air at the end of Gemma's wand. "I noticed you spending so long last night staring into that watch that I figured it must have been important to you. Who would have thought that the son of _the_ Malfoy family would get homesick on the first day?" She started laughing hysterically, the watch shaking perilously as her laughs shook her wand.

Draco tackled Gemma and the watch fell, hitting the water with a splash that seemed to echo in all of their ears. Draco snapped his head around to watch the watch sink, panic on his face as Finley pulled him off Gemma. "No!" he cried.

As Harry stared at the watch sinking into the black water and heard Draco's cry ringing in his ears, he felt something snap inside of him. Without thinking, he ran to the edge of the wharf and leapt, diving into the ice-cold water. He felt his glasses being swept off his face as he plunged into the lake's depths but in that moment, he barely noticed. All he was focused on was trying to find the watch in the dim light. Fortunately, the light from above reached just deep enough to allow Harry to see the vague outline of the watch, about ten metres below him. He dove down, kicking and clawing into the water to swim deeper into the water, reaching out desperately for the watch before it slipped out of his grasp forever. He felt the cold metal within his fingers and grabbed it, bringing the watch to his chest as if he were cradling a child. In that moment, even in the freezing cold waters, he felt a warmth in his chest, the warmth he felt when he saw the red-headed family at King's Cross Station, the warmth he felt when Hagrid rescued him from the Dursleys, the warmth he felt when he thought of his parents.

Harry felt the water churn above as he was surrounded by bubbles. He looked up and saw Draco diving down towards him, his blond hair sprayed out in every direction. Harry reached out with his hand and Draco grabbed it, pulling him up towards the surface. Harry kicked out… and hit something. It was soft and was sent down into the depths under Harry's foot but the screech he heard as he kicked it sent chills down his spine. He looked down and in the dark, he saw dozens of beady black eyes staring back at him. There was a large swarm of green tentacled creatures below him, their jagged teeth shining in the light as they all screeched in unison. In a moment they swam up and grabbed hold of Harry, clinging onto his legs, arms and body and began dragging him down into the black below. After grabbing him, they swarmed up and attacked Draco as well, his flailing kicks unable to stop them clinging to him as well. Harry's mouth opened inadvertently and the last reserves of air in his mouth escaped in the form of a flurry of bubbles that raced to the surface, leaving him with nothing but water flooding his mouth.

As his vision started to turn black, his mind took him back to the cupboard under the stairs, where there was nothing except for Harry and his thoughts. The same terrors that haunted him as he sat in the dark cupboard visited him once more in the lake. He could see it, a dark silhouette approaching him from above. It pointed at him and waves of heat flashed past, barely missing him. The silhouette reached him and grabbed a hold of his body. Up close, Harry could see the colour of its eyes, a fierce green that stared deep into his own. But Harry knew it couldn't be human, there as a weird cloth-like substance covering where its mouth should be and the figure's fingers and toes were webbed like that of a frog's. Harry clenched his eyes shut. Harry knew how to escape the terrors, he had learnt it long ago underneath the stairs. All he had to do was sleep, and in the morning there would be light. With that thought, Harry allowed himself to slip away and just like that, the terror disappeared.

* * *

Harry's eyes shot open and there was light. Harry took a sharp breath, sucking as much oxygen into his lungs as he could. He was no longer in the lake, that much was clear. He could feel the soft mattress underneath him and a warm, thick blanket was draped over him. He dragged himself up into a sitting position and looked around. It looked like he was in a hospital. The room was filled with white beds, most of which were empty, with light entering the room through large, tall windows that were dotted around the walls. The only other person inside the room was Draco, who was sitting in the bed directly to Harry's right. He had his pocket watch sitting open on his lap, the watch's ticking the only sound in the empty room.

Draco finally noticed that Harry was awake and flashed a smirk, "Well, well, well, so he's finally awake. Living with Muggles for so long really made you stupid, didn't it?" Draco closed the watch, the sound of the lid snapping shut echoing around the room. "Honestly, almost drowning yourself to save someone else's watch, I am seriously worried how long you're going you're going to survive at this school."

Draco flicked open the watch again, the sound of ticking resuming once more. "Look, it still works somehow. Barely made it through, just like you," Draco glanced at Harry. "Don't think of it as a compliment."

As Draco turned back to his watch, Harry asked. "How did we escape?"

Draco's nose wrinkled as if we he had just smelt something awful and he shrugged, "Who knows?" He leaned back against his bed's headboard and stared up towards the ceiling. "What a rubbish way to start school. Not even twenty-four hours and we're in the infirmary. You're a terrible influence on me, Potter."

Harry stiffened, " _I'm_ a bad influence on _you_?"

Draco laughed, "Of course you are, I'm normally a model student." Harry laughed as well but Draco stopped abruptly, "Hey, what's funny about that?" The two started laughing again and Harry lay back down in bed. "I suppose it isn't all bad," Draco mused. "We get to skip our first classes and that crazy prefect is probably getting chewed out by Snape right now. Oh man, I wish I could be there to see that."

"Who's Snape?" Harry asked.

"Our head of house. Tall, grumpy-looking guy. Looks like he can stare straight into your soul. You didn't see him in the hall last night?"

Harry shrugged and Draco shook his head, "Anyway, she deserves whatever punishment Snape gives her. She almost killed us both, you know."

Harry looked at Draco, "Thanks for trying to save me."

Draco looked back at him, "No problem. You jumped in after my watch and I don't like owing people anything. Besides, that's what friends are for, right?"

Harry's eyes widened, "We're friends?"

Draco smirked, "Sure. It would be my honour to be friends with the famous Harry Potter."

Harry smiled and stared into the ceiling. His first friend.

* * *

 **A/N: Phew that was a long chapter. By far the longest chapter I've ever posted on this website. Shameless self-congratulating aside, I'd like to thank all of you guys and girls who followed the story, especially the two of you who reviewed. It really got me hyped up to keep write this flaming monstrosity. Next up, we have Harry's first class as a Slytherin and our first "reunion" of the trio, so look forward to that.**

 **P.S. Harry and Draco are so wholesome right now (which I find hilarious)**


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